


Free Kittens

by MaverickWerewolf



Series: Song of the Stars Vore [2]
Category: Nova Refuge, Original Work
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Kittens, Non-sexual vore, Soft Vore, Vore, dorks bantering, safe vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28562370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverickWerewolf/pseuds/MaverickWerewolf
Summary: John and Henry come upon a box of kittens in the unlikeliest of places - and Henry is determined to get them out safely... a job for which he volunteers John's unique biology.
Series: Song of the Stars Vore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096031
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Free Kittens

“What the hell was that?”

Something squeaked again. Mewled. Cried. It sounded like a kitten, he could’ve sworn it was one. A space kitten? Why would anyone have had a cat, much less _cats_ , plural, in a base like this?

The tiny noise kept going, mewing and squeaking and sounding exactly like all the ‘net videos he’d watched of kittens that Andrea loved to forward to him non-stop. John furrowed his brow and paused.

“What?” Henry prompted from right behind him, sounding terrified, as usual. It was always either annoyed or terrified with him.

“I hear something,” John said, just before he followed all the endless desperate little cries right over to… a box.

But Henry was already past him, moving forward with his mouth agape and sucking in a lungful of air in what sounded like the purest awe that John had ever heard. In the dim light, he wondered just how much Henry could make out, but John saw it very clearly.

It was definitely a little box full of kittens. Very little, very fuzzy kittens, all mewling endlessly and squirming around in apparent distress.

“Oh,” Henry intoned oddly, voice just a little too high and not remotely like any tone John had ever heard from him. “ _Oh._ Oh my _God._ ”

John blinked.

“OhmyGod,” he squeaked almost as high as the kittens, collapsing in a pile right at the front of the box and peeking into it.

“Henry?” John prompted.

This was just weird, coming from the greatest grouch on the entire ship.

“ _Kittens!_ ” Henry declared breathlessly.

It took every ounce of his willpower not to laugh. But John stifled it for now and hunkered down beside him, letting his gun hang from the strap around his neck as he reached up to put the back of his hand on Henry’s forehead.

“Wh— what,” Henry snapped, straightening up instantly like a disturbed snake. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Well you don’t _seem_ sick,” John said with mock concern, putting two fingers on Henry’s neck instead and feeling his pulse. “Heart rate’s a little high, though.”

Definitely snappy again. “What is with you?”

John made a face at him.“What’s with _you_ , we find some kittens in a box and you turn into a My Little Pony over here.”

Henry sputtered uncontrollably, red rising into his face at record levels.

And John’s facade broke. He laughed, then he laughed again, and he reached into the box to scoop up a kitten. A little calico one all colored in splotches of black, white, and orange stripes, with bright white whiskers set out against the black fur of its face.

“I— I… that’s… I hate you,” Henry said, with only the last part being eloquent at all.

John just grinned at him. “Sure.”

Henry looked around, though, then turned in a full circle via scooting around awkwardly on his ass before he blurted, “Where’s the mother?”

With a grimace, John jabbed his chin in the direction of the kitten box instead. “I don’t think the mom’s here, Henry, or she wouldn’t have left her kittens in the middle of alien-infested territory.”

The tiny calico in his hands squirmed around, flailing flattened-out paws tipped with long, pointy little needle claws. One of those managed to find the front of his body armor and catch on some cloth, so it promptly started dragging itself up onto him with more strength than he actually expected.

Henry put on the stupidest grin John had ever seen. “Would you look at that?” he said. “They don’t even mind Skrakki.”

All mirth fell away from John’s face like somebody had gone and thrown his feelings right into a big, festering lake. While they were on fire. The feelings. Maybe the lake, too – somehow.

He gave Henry the flattest stare he could possibly conjure.

“Not… that you’re – a Skrakki,” Henry sputtered. He cleared his throat and turned to the box instead, yanking a flashlight from his belt and turning it on and— _OW._

John hissed, grunted, and turned his face away, pinching his eyes shut as they tried to burn right out of their sockets.

“Oh— sorry, sorry,” Henry blurted.

 _Sure, John, you_ _’re not a Skrakki, it’s totally normal to have natural nightvision._ Stupid son of a bitch…

“Ooh I count at least… you’ve got one there, right?” Henry looked up at him and the little calico mountaineering its way up toward John’s neck. “Oh, yes. Yes— what, like—” the beam of light bounced back down toward the box, “there’s got to be at least eight here. Oh wow, it’s a pile of them!”

“Sounds like momma sure was productive,” John said just as he felt the prick of needle-claws against his skin instead. _Mew!_ Cried the calico on his chest, just before it stuck its head down the front collar of his shirt and started worming down in there. With all its— downy fluff and little – ow – claws – _ow,_ while it was purring, rumbling like a tiny fuzzy engine.

John reached for it, but it just squirmed down harder. And when he tried to give its rear a tug, it set its claws in like fishhooks.

“Henry, save me,” he pleaded a little flatly.

Turning to look at him again, Henry grinned like a fool. “Never had kittens, Shephard?” he said.

John put on a thoughtful face. “Well _technically_ no; that’d be a little hard, considering…”

Henry scoffed. “Yes yes, I know, you’re a wise-ass.” He grabbed the bottom of John’s shirt and tugged it right out of his waistband. John’s eyebrows went right up.

“Wow, at least take me to dinner first. Or give me a rose or something.”

“Will you shut up now?” Henry snapped, stuffing a hand up under his shirt and getting hold of the little kitten. Carefully, he pried the claws free from John’s skin and hauled the tiny critter out, smiling at it like it could do absolutely no wrong in the entire world.

John made a vague effort to fix his shirt, a grin tugging at his lips again, and said, “Wow, those are some amazing parental instincts, Henry.”

Henry’s smile dropped like a brick. “Oh please.”

“No, it’s great, I’m touched. I had no idea you could actually like other living things. This is a new side of you, huh?”

Did he hear him? Nope. Wasn’t even listening. Henry was so busy inspecting the little purring calico in his hands, constantly looking back at the other ones and smiling at all of them like he’d just seen a band of angels and they were playing him the most heavenly of music. That music being near-endless _mew, mew,_ of various pitches – all very high, though – that were making John’s overly sensitive ears kind of want to start ringing at him.

“Y’know, as much as I’m enjoying this – and, really, I am,” John said, “we shouldn’t sit around and admire the kittens.”

Henry plopped the calico down right in John’s lap before turning to the other ones instead to inspect all of those, too. John frowned. The calico mewled up at him, and John threw it a look.

“Hi, little buddy.”

 _Mew?_ It never stopped purring.

“I think you like me better than Henry does.”

_Mew._

Claws, tiny impossibly thin needle claws. How could they go right through everything like that? Claws right in his—

He wheezed scooped the kitten up _again_. “Okay-let’s-not-crawl-there…”

 _Mew!_ the kitten insisted, nose twitching, neck lolling around everywhere as it sniffed for something. And John got the distinct impression it wanted to eat all his powerbars. And that Henry would let it.

“Henry,” he prompted again.

“Alright, alright,” Henry muttered. “They’re purring, Shephard; they’re hungry. I don’t think they’re even weaned yet…”

“Too bad I left my spare cat milk in the Squire.”

“What?”

John nodded ruefully. “The emergency cat nipples, too.”

“You can’t stop, can you? You really can’t stop with the… the dry little commentary—”

 _Thud_. Somewhere outside in the halls. John felt the vibrations from it. Something was moving around out there again – something big.

“Okay, pack it up, Henry,” John hissed, putting the little calico back in the box. It practically screamed at him in an exceptionally loud mewl once he did, flailing both front paws around in his direction as his hand left it. “We need to move.”

“Pack… wait, pack what up? The kittens? _Shephardwecan_ _’tleavethesekittenshere.”_

John bit his lip.

“Shephard…”

“I’m _thinking_.”

“ _Shephard._ ”

“ _What?_ What do you want me to say? Pick up the box and carry it, I’ll cover you, we can drop it off at the Squire—”

Henry stared at him. Just… sat there and stared. John blinked, then furrowed his brow, then squinted at him, but Henry remained unchanged. He just… kept staring.

“No,” John said, lifting a finger. “Don’t look at _me_.”

“That’s what it was _made_ for, that’s why it _evolved_.”

“Oh for the love of—” John pressed his lips together briefly. “I’m— that’s— they’ve got little horrible needle claws!” he protested, voice going slightly hoarse and cracking on him. “They’d _hurt!_ ”

Henry scoffed. Loudly. “Oh please, baby _Wrognoth_ have claws they can’t retract yet either, you think they’re not built for that? You got this pouch _from Wrognoth DNA_ , you’ll live.”

“I said _no_. Pick up the damn box and let’s carry it outta here.”

Without another word, which was shocking enough on its own, Henry got to his feet and carried a kitten right over to him. Wouldn’t you know it’d be that little calico one, still mewling and squirming like it wanted to go all the places it couldn’t. And shouldn’t.

Then he held it right up to his face. John stared at it.

The kitten tried to nibble on his nose. Henry just kept staring, pleadingly, and for a cat lover he had very convincing puppy dog eyes. John sighed.

“John, we absolutely have to save these kittens,” Henry said, dead serious.

Great. Fine. Fantastic. John set his jaw, huffed, and cut his eyes toward Henry’s face again. He lifted a finger again to make a point.

“You,” he said, “owe me a _shitton_ of lollipops for this. A _lifetime supply_.”

“Okay.”

“ _And_ booze.”

Henry put on that stupid smile again.

“And,” John added pointedly, “they’re completely your responsibility when we get them back to the ship.”

“Okay, okay, I know.”

Taking a deep breath, John took the calico kitten out of Henry’s hands and… paused. And glanced at Henry, who stood there staring at him, watching. John swallowed, just once, and then glanced at the box of kittens before he ducked his head.

“You really gonna watch?” he said.

“Oh. Oh—” Henry blurted, shrugging, grabbing his gun as if he actually knew how to use the thing worth a damn, and turned back toward the door. “Yes, right. Go ahead. I won’t watch.”

Pointedly, John waited until Henry had turned to face the door again before he returned his attention to the kitten in his hands. He paused, frowned, and thought about how he hadn’t actually done this much yet. _Yet._ Why did he think ‘yet?’ Why did he want this? Was it some instinct thing that he ended up with now that he was some… living human experiment made of DNA from other species that was constantly trying to eat and replace his own?

The instinct to want to protect things – to have something in there. In that ‘second stomach,’ Oom had called it once. ‘Pseudowomb’ was the other phrase. ‘Pouch’ was another. Anyway, it was attached to his esophagus and he swallowed things into it, because apparently male and female Wrognoth had them to carry the youngest pups and keep them safe. And, under certain conditions, they could even _become_ wombs in the males.

Which definitely freaked him out a little, but these also totally weren’t those conditions.

Taking a breath, John finally opened his mouth and carefully pushed the kitten inside. Obviously, it was more than a little freaked out at that and started squirming incredibly, its mewling going muffled as he fit the entire tiny kitten inside, closed his mouth, and swallowed.

To be so fuzzy, it went down pretty easily – he swallowed again just to be sure – and he waited until the squirming lump in his throat slid through his chest all the way down to his stomach. But not _that_ stomach; the other stomach. Which wasn’t really a stomach at all, since it didn’t digest and actually passed air through it to breathe if it sensed… passengers. He still wasn’t used to any of this.

Once it was down, the kitten wriggled toward a corner of his insides and started nosing around there, just before it snuggled up against the walls of the stomach. For a second, its sharp little needle-claws kneaded at him, but it didn’t actually hurt. If anything, it felt almost nice. At least, it felt – reassuring. So the kitten didn’t hate it, after all.

Meanwhile, all the other kittens continued kicking up their fuss. If anything, they got even louder, so John turned and went to them next.

“That was just _weird_ ,” Henry suddenly said, having apparently watched the entire time. Though, in the dim lighting, John wasn’t sure how much he actually saw.

“You’re supposed to be covering the door, Henry,” John reminded wryly.

“Right,” Henry blurted, returning his fickle attention there at least for the time being.

Licking his lips, John knelt over the box full of kittens again. More than just full, it was absolutely _loaded_ with kittens. Since they were pressed for time anyway, John scooped up another one and swallowed it next, shuddering and trying to ignore the odd way they tickled going down. Not to mention the squirming…

“You _really_ owe me for this, Henry,” John muttered under his breath as he picked up another kitten and swallowed that one, too. Then another. And another. And another—

Having one or two kittens in there was weird enough, but by the time he had gotten them all down, he felt loaded full with squirming and purring and tiny, kneading claws. The kittens got busy cozying up into a pile, while John got busy unzipping his TAC vest to make way for the round belly now bulging out from his middle and purring softly to itself. At least it wasn’t _that_ big – it didn’t even push up his shirt. Not like Oom had, when John had to carry him in there once. He would never live that down.

Standing and shifting on his feet briefly, biting his lip and waiting until the kittens had at least stopped moving quite _so_ much – fur _tickled_ – he turned and went to rejoin Henry at the door. But Henry wasn’t guarding the door again, because he stared at John, wide-eyed.

“What?” John prompted, knowing he was starting to go red.

Henry shone his light square on the relatively small but still glaringly obvious belly under John’s shirt. Frowning, John bapped the light down toward the floor.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to point? _Or_ stare?” John said.

“No,” Henry replied flatly, lifting the light again to resume staring at his stomach. “Are they okay?”

“They’re better than we’re about to be, Henry—”

“No I mean like are they _okay,_ are they not panicking, what are they doing?”

“They’re purring like crazy and it feels _super_ weird. Does that help? This was _your_ idea.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Henry nodded and turned toward the door yet again. “Okay. Yes. We’ll get them back to _The Odyssey_ and…”

“And Chase will ask us what the hell we were thinking bringing a giant litter of kittens on board.”

“Well yes, but we can worry about that later.”

John lifted his gun again, ready to take point, but – he paused and gave Henry another sideways look. His belly kept vibrating to itself, emitting a pile of muffled purring.

“Please don’t tell Andrea about this,” he said, dropping his voice low for no real reason.

Henry gave him a flat stare.

Yeah… Andrea was going to be the first one to find out, then the whole ship would find out, and he’d have to go through all that whole thing again about ‘John swallowed something he shouldn’t have’ or ‘John swallowed more living things’ or ‘John swallowed this,’ ‘John swallowed that’…

It was embarrassing as hell, yeah, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t feel nice to know he could keep something – or someone – safe. So what if he had started doing this a lot?

Not that he’d ever admit that instinct that made him _want_ something in there, even if he thought Henry already had him figured out.

“Like I said,” John said pointedly as he lifted his gun and did finally move to take point, at least _trying_ to pretend he didn’t like being a walking kitten bed, “you _really_ owe me.”

**Author's Note:**

> [If you enjoy my writing, be sure to check out more (especially my original works) on my blog!](https://maverick-werewolf.tumblr.com/)


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